


vow

by soulofme



Series: sheith sentence prompts [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Drabble, Keith (Voltron) is Zarkon's Son, M/M, Political Alliances, Prince Keith (Voltron), Prince Shiro (Voltron), Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 12:05:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15048638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofme/pseuds/soulofme
Summary: He knows that the marriage is strictly political. It’s nothing more than a physical representation of the alliance between the Galrans and the Arusians. And, as the crown prince and only child, Shiro has a duty to maintain.





	vow

**Author's Note:**

> [sentence prompt](http://stefansalfatore.tumblr.com/post/144981395239/sentence-prompts) #1: what if I say no?

It’s Pidge who finds him, hunched over on the stairs with his head pressed stubbornly between his knees. He doesn’t move, not when she settles beside him or when she lays a hand between his shoulder blades.

“Shiro.”

He twists his head away from her. Pidge sighs heavily.

“Takashi, please.”

It’s a dirty trick, but he raises his head anyway. Pidge doesn’t look victorious in the slightest. Instead, her eyebrows are creased together with worry. He feels the mile-high walls around him come crashing down. Pidge’s lip quirks up into an amused smile, but she doesn’t look any less concerned.

“Done sulking?” she asks, almost hopefully. Shiro sighs loudly.

“What if I say no?”

Pidge frowns then, shaking her head before he really has a chance to finish.

“You know you can’t, Shiro. We need this alliance. We’ve been waiting for years to establish a treaty.”

“He’s Galra, Pidge,” Shiro says. He doesn’t mean to sound like a petulant child, but he can’t help it. This whole thing is frustrating. “You know I can’t go through with this.”

“I’m sorry, Takashi,” Pidge says. She wraps an arm around his middle and squeezes until he melts into her touch. “If it makes you feel any better, I met Keith. Apparently, he’s only _half_ Galra.”

Shiro snorts, but then the meaning of her words sinks in.

“Keith?”

“Oh come on,” Pidge groans, pulling away with a raised brow. “Were you not paying attention for…oh, I don’t know, the past six _months_?”

Shiro offers her a sheepish laugh. Pidge pinches the bridge of her nose before she brings herself to her feet.

“Let’s go,” she says, softly. “Your future is waiting.”

Shiro sucks in a sharp breath and follows Pidge into the castle. Frankly, he has no idea what his betrothed looks like. The Galra had sent a portrait of Keith, but he’d refused to see it. He’s honestly ashamed of the way he’s behaving, but after losing his arm to the Galra in the bloodiest battle Arus had ever seen, Shiro isn’t exactly keen on befriending them.

He knows that the marriage is strictly political. It’s nothing more than a physical representation of the alliance between the Galrans and the Arusians. And, as the crown prince and only child, Shiro has a duty to maintain.

That doesn’t mean he’s pleased by the deal, however. Due to Shiro’s importantance to the Arusian military, Keith will be moving into his castle. Meaning, he’ll have to carve a space out in his life for his new husband. Though, he supposes, sending _him_ to the Galra Empire seems like a far worse trade.

Shiro breaks himself out of his thoughts when Pidge stops abruptly. At the end of the wide corridor stands a lean man with dark hair, pulled away from his face in a short ponytail. He turns at the sound of footsteps behind him, his eyes narrowed a fraction.

Shiro swallows. _Hard_.

The man—Keith—is…young. His jaw is sharp enough to cut steel, and yet there is a layer of baby fat that clings to his face. His eyes, a shocking shade of dark violet, are gleaming, yet distrustful.

Pidge elbows him none-too-gently in the small of his back. Shiro starts forward, watching as Keith’s eyes widen with every step he takes towards him.

“Your Highness,” Shiro greets him, bowing deeply. He keeps his eyes on Keith as he does.

Keith’s chin tilts up. “Prince Takashi. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Shiro says. He can almost feel Pidge’s pleased grin from behind him. “Walk with me?”

He holds his arm out to Keith, holding his breath when a few tense seconds pass. Then, slowly, Keith wraps a hand around him. His grip is gentle, hardly felt through Shiro’s thick formalwear.

He leads Keith outside, into his mother’s garden. The roses are in full bloom, and he notices that Keith’s eyes are drawn to them.

“Do you like them?” he asks.

Keith lets go of his arm in favor of stroking a finger of the delicate petals. His lips curl down into a frown.

“We don’t have these at the Empire,” he announces. There’s something dark coloring his tone.

Shiro stays quiet, unsure of how to respond. They continue to walk until they find a bench, where Shiro waits for Keith to sit down before following. He presses back against the firm wood behind him and takes a quiet, but deep, breath.

“I’m sorry,” he starts slowly, and waits for Keith’s head to turn towards him before continuing. “This marriage was a shock to me. When I heard you were Galra, I…” he trails off, unable to finish.

Keith’s eyes drift towards his right arm, outfitted with a metal prosthetic Pidge and Hunk had spent months designing.

“I don’t blame you,” Keith murmurs. “I heard about what they did to you.”

Keith stares at the fountain in front of them, his mouth set into a firm line.

“…Your Highness?” Shiro tries. Keith shakes his head.

“Keith,” he corrects. He tugs at a lose string on his robe, dyed the deep purple Shiro had begun to associate with the Galra. “I was probably just as surprised as you. Father always said he wouldn’t bother to marry me off. They call me the runt. I’m only half a prince, especially when compared to Lotor.”

Shiro frowns at the mention of Zarkon’s eldest son. Lotor was just as cruel as his father, but far more cunning. He was a sheep in wolf’s clothing, and Shiro loathed the days where he would rush into battle and see Lotor waiting for him with a sinister smile.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Keith says, but he laughs quietly. Shiro’s face burns. “I don’t expect anything from you. But if this is what will bring peace to the universe, I’m going to give it my best shot.”

“I will, too,” Shiro assures him. “I…can I promise you something?”

“A promise?” Keith asks. Shiro’s mind races. “What is it?”

He doesn’t know what he’s thinking. Honestly, he has no idea where that even came from. But he knows that he has to say it. It’s now or never.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to love you,” he says. “But I promise on everything that I have that I will always be a friend to you. You have my word.”

Keith gazes around their surroundings, lingering on the face of the castle before them.

“I’ve heard that your word is worth its weight in gold,” Keith whispers. His lips curl into a faint smile. “Will you really give it to me?”

Shiro looks at Keith’s profile. He’s practically glowing, his fine features softened by the afternoon sun. He looks towards Shiro then, his eyes showing the vulnerability that he doesn’t show on his face. Shiro’s heart clenches painfully in his chest.

“Every bit of it,” he vows, and seals the promise with a kiss to Keith’s knuckles.


End file.
